


Love, Miko

by Always_Somewhere (orphan_account)



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/F, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Internalized Homophobia, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 14:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Always_Somewhere
Summary: Miko thinks that she has loved Miki her whole life.





	Love, Miko

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Just finished this anime yesterday (LOVED IT) and haven't stopped writing this since then. I was really intrigued by Miko's character so this is kind of my take on it. I hope you guys enjoy!

**March, 2005**

Miki Kuroda is five years old when she finds herself packing up her whole life in boxes and moving out of the house that she had known since she was born. She hadn’t minded much, because to her going somewhere new had only promised new people, new friends, and new adventures that she could embark on as she so pleased.

She had been oblivious to the real reason as to why they were moving away, parents dying tragically in a freak accident leaving their bodies almost unidentifiable. Her grandmother had only been able to identify that of her daughter from the mole present on the back of her wrist. When Miki sitting in the backseat of the moving car strapped in tight, had asked her grandmother why she kept on wiping at her cheeks, if there was something wrong – her grandmother had just replied that her allergies were acting up again, it was just her old age catching up to her. Miki noticed her voice was shaky as she said this, but it wasn’t in her nature to question her elders either, so she nodded and continued humming to herself.

Over the first two or three weeks in the new and tiny house, smaller and draftier than the house they had back in the city, Miki incessantly asked her grandmother where her parents were.

“Mommy said she was going shopping! Why hasn’t she come home? Where’s Papa?” she would scream at her. Most of the time all her screaming only fell upon deaf ears, her grandmother rarely answering, the only sign she had heard anything at all would be the steady stream of tears falling down her cheeks. Miki didn’t understand why her grandmother was crying, when she was the one who should be doing so. It only frustrated her and encouraged her to shout at her grandmother even more, not caring if she came across as a brat or that she shouldn’t talk to her elders like that.

She just wanted her Mommy and Papa back. Her grandmother was old and she didn’t play with her like her parents did, only smiled and patted her on the back gently when she showed her a new drawing or talked to her about her dolls.

The last time Miki had decided to engage her grandmother in a one sided shouting match, her grandmother would reply, tone quiet and subdued, she would just say that her parents had to go somewhere. They had to go somewhere far away, that they were so very sorry for leaving so suddenly, and that they loved her so.

Hearing this made Miki feel strangely confused and an inexplicable sadness would descend upon her; gripping at her heart in a vice grip, every heart beat exacerbating that pain. Her stomach felt as if she had eaten a can of worms that was left open to allow those worms the freedom to roam and fester inside of her.

She’d ask why they didn’t take her with them; her grandmother would have no answers to give. Only saying that she should thank God for the blessings he had given her.

Miki didn’t want any blessings; she just wanted to see her parents back.

The constant inquiries about her parents had started to come less and less and with them decreased the incessant shouting and crying that followed. Eventually, after about a month, they stopped altogether – Miki instead favoring being with her grandmother and had found a new hobby in tending to flowers. It was almost as if Miki had decided to take all her memories of her parents and the love she had harbored for them, sealed them away in a box and decided to put them away on a shelf to collect dust and be forgotten completely with time.

Her grandmother didn’t know if this was a tragedy and insult to the memory of her daughter and her husband, or a blessing in disguise that Miki had miraculously decided to forget about it and move past it.

However she knew that was not the case, when she came across multiple drawings strewn across Miki’s bedroom floor, of her standing in the midst of her Mommy and Papa, the colorful flowers surrounding them. Soaked droplets scattered over those drawings and blemishing the colored parts. Miki hadn’t forgotten, but had simply decided to find another outlet for her grief it had seemed.

It was in that moment, that her grandmother had made her decision. She hadn’t been planning on sending Miki to kindergarten that year because it was already so late in the year. Regarding those pictures, she felt that perhaps sending Miki to school even if it was for a few hours to be around other children may be cathartic in its own way. They could help her in ways – ways of innocent youth – that she knew that she never could.

**###**

Kindergarten for Miki was both underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time. Seeing as Miki had been used to kindergarten in the city, there were more kids there and a lot more rules too. Overwhelming, because well everyone liked her and swarmed around her – something she didn’t have in her old school. They were all taken by her red hair and her accent that was different from theirs and above all, that she was something new in a small town that rarely saw anything new or different.

Miki basked in all the attention and thrived on it. She loved everyone listening attentively to her and caring about what she had to say, how they would shower her in compliments and call her pretty. They would rush to her each morning and show her their dolls and toys, as if waiting for her stamp of approval on them.

Most of them anyway, with the main exception being Makimura Miki, the girl that shared her name but not her popularity apparently. It wasn’t as if she was rude or ignored Miki, but she didn’t regard her as highly as the other children did. She would simply say hello and smile at her, like she did with everyone else, and take the seat adjacent to hers.

For some reason, this bothered her. Did the other Miki dislike her? She didn’t think that was the case, because she didn’t talk much to anyone for that matter. Miki was confused by this other girl who shared her name with her beautiful eyes that shined so bright.

When she asked Aiko, a girl in her class who had a penchant for putting her hair in pigtails, about the other Miki – the girl had merely shrugged.

“Miki is a witch; didn’t you see her freaky eyes? No one talks to her so they don’t get cursed,” she had said.

If anything, this only piqued Miki’s interest even more.

Miki resolved that she would approach Makimura Miki on the playground at recess later that day. She just wanted to confirm if the other Miki was indeed a witch and to do so she would have to actually talk to her. This had nothing to do with how pretty her eyes were and a secret desire to make the other Miki her friend, absolutely nothing at all.

Recess came along and Miki politely excused herself from the group of girls that normally followed her around, to go seek out Makimura. It took her a while, checking by the swings, the sand box, and even the monkey bars – but to no avail. Huffing under her breath and scuffing her shoes, Miki was about to call it a day when she caught something in her peripheral vision.

It was Makimura, climbing the jungle gym and swinging from the bars like some sort of monkey, a radiant smile on her face as she did so. Not many children their age liked to play on the jungle gym or even the monkey bars, herself included, usually because their parents forbade them from doing so and also because it was scary. What if she fell down from so high up, got hurt, and even started _bleeding?_ How wasn’t she afraid?

Maybe she really was a witch, after all no normal girl would do such a dangerous activity.

Deigning it a lost cause, Miki was already walking away when Makimura called out to her, “Miki-chan! Wanna come play with me?”

Miki turned around, surprised at the sudden call out and even looked around her as if to confirm that Makimura was indeed talking to her. That in itself was silly though, because there were no other Miki’s besides the two of them. Looking at her radiant smile, directed towards her, Miki was almost startled. It was like Makimura had completely transformed into a different person than the quiet and subdued version that sat next to her in class and gazed quietly out the window. Forgetting all qualms about her being a witch due to the force of that radiant smile that was basically gleaming in the sunlight, and perhaps against her better judgement, Miki found herself walking slowly towards Makimura. She stood at the foot of the jungle gym but made no move to actually climb it.

Makimura expertly and flexibly jumped and bended her body so that she could be seated at the top of the jungle bars, and leaned over to look at Miki expectantly.

“Well come on, didn’t you come over here to play?” Makimura asked, bright smile still adorning her face.

Miki shook her head resolutely, “No way, I’m not gonna climb that thing. I’ll fall and die.”

Makimura laughed, her laugh airy and light, happy and genuine, “Oh don’t be silly, if you don’t wanna jump and stuff that’s fine. But you can climb up here and sit with me.”

Miki’s resolve was wavering, she was by no means silly. Just ask one of the many girls that followed her around or her grandma! “But – what if I fall?” she asked, voice small because she didn’t want Makimura to tease her and call her silly. She looked downwards and stared at her shoes that were freshly polished, courtesy to her grandmother who polished them for her everyday afterschool.

Makimura doesn’t laugh in fact, although her smile is still fixed on her face. She extends her hand, an offering, and says, “Don’t worry about that, if you fall, I’ll catch you.”

Miki gives her a timid smile back, still nervous but perhaps feeling a tad braver after Makimura’s confident exclamation. She takes her hand and hastily climbs the bars of the jungle gym. Her freshly polished shoes squeak against the bars and she finds herself slipping. At this point, she was almost to the top so she imagines herself toppling to the ground and closes her eyes in fear, already bracing for the heavy thud and the imminent pain that would follow.

No such thing happened however, and instead Miki felt two soft and gentle hands holding on to her arms firmly. She opens her eyes, and sees Makimura still smiling at her as she steadies Miki’s position as if she’s a doll of some sort.

Makimura is in the midst of dusting off her skirt for her, like some sort of fussy mother when she says, “See? Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t let you fall?”

Miki smiles back, still feeling timid and replies, “Thank you – for not letting me fall.”

Humming to let her know she heard her, Makimura proceeds to swing her legs idly against the bars of the jungle gym. Now that Miki has finally approached her, she doesn’t know what to say, they’re sitting in silence and she doesn’t like it.

“Did you know that my name is Miki too, Miki-chan?” Miki asks, being the first one to break the silence.

Miki nods.

“Is it okay if I call you Miko-chan instead? I think it would be cute,” Makimura continues.

“Why though?”

“Why would it be cute?” Makimura prompts, and then she looks up at the sky watching the clouds idly passing by, as if in deep thought, “Well, you’re Kuroda Miki, so maybe Mika makes more sense, but I think Kuro and Miki making Miko is cuter.”

Miki is about to respond when Makimura continues again, this time her smile is so huge that Miki swears she’s almost blinded by her, “Besides, you’re cute – so you’d need a cute nickname.”

She knew at that moment, that if she were to look at a mirror, her face would probably be as red as her hair.

Feeling brave again, Miki took a stab in the dark and said, “Why do they call you a witch – Miki?” she tries out saying her name, and even though she also shares the same name it feels nice when it tumbles out on her tongue.

A few short moments of silence follow, during which Miki finds herself panicking that perhaps she her question had offended Makimura and she was about to take it back, when once again she’s cut off.

“I believe it’s because of my eyes. They say it’s unnatural. My dad is of German descent so I don’t think I’m actually a witch,” she pauses and then laughs lightly, “Even though, it would be pretty cool if I actually was.”

“Doesn’t it bother you, though? That they call you that, even though it’s not true?” Miki asks her.

Shaking her head, Makimura redirects her gaze back at the clouds thoughtfully, “No, it doesn’t. Maybe at first it did,” she hums and closes her eyes, feeling the warm breeze of spring ruffle her hair. Miki was mesmerized by her, opening her eyes again she continues, “My mom told me that people are afraid of what they don’t know, which is what makes them act out. Because we know that, we shouldn’t react to it and instead treat them with kindness and compassion. Disprove their theories with our actions and not our words.”

Miki mulled over this, but decided this was ultimately too complex for her understand so she just nodded in agreement.

“Besides, I have Akira, so I’m not totally alone. As long as I have him, I know I’ll be fine,” she finally finishes.

Miki doesn’t know who this Akira is, but somehow the thought that she wasn’t Makimura’s first friend saddened her somewhat.

Taking grab of Makimura’s shoulder, Miki startles her and declares, “You have me too now. I know you’re not a witch!”

It takes Makimura a moment before she recovers, smile back on her face, “I know that already Miko-chan. You’re not like the other kids, you’re special.”

Miki didn’t know what she had meant by that exactly, but it gave her a warm feeling in her tummy and found that she didn’t care that much anyway.

 

**September, 2009**

It had been approximately four years since Miki had uprooted her whole life in the city along with her grandmother to go live in the suburbs. She rarely cast any thought to those days though; to her moving was the best thing that could have possibly happened. In this small suburbia, Miki found acceptance, popularity, her newfound love for track, and most importantly – she found Makimura Miki – her best friend.

Of course there with every good thing; came its drawbacks. Namely; Fudo Akira – Makimura’s best friend and the boy that shared her residence. He had been added to their party soon after she had befriended Makimura, or perhaps she was the one that was added to _their_ party, seeing as Akira was unfortunately present first.

It wasn’t that she hated Akira, maybe she did in the beginning because he was always around and she had felt like he wanted to steal Makimura from her. In fact, it was quite impossible to hate Akira despite her hardest efforts to do so. He was a crybaby, who seemed to reflect their worst emotions and cry out of some sort of empathy towards them. Always trying to help even when that help was unasked for and unneeded; that brand of idiot that would rush in front of a group of bullies even though he was weaker than them – just to save Makimura.

Something that Miki was ashamed to admit, she had been incapable of doing herself. The fear had gripped at her heart and had constrained her movements so that her legs felt like tar and her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. She couldn’t even ask for help in that moment, from how scared she was when she saw those boys surrounding Makimura who had looked so scared herself but was trying not to show it. Then, Akira had appeared like some sort of dark horse, despite his own fear and stood up to those boys with tears streaming down his face, deescalated the situation and saved the day like a true hero.

The hero that Miki herself should have been for Makimura.

So no, Miki didn’t hate Akira, but she was aggravated by him – jealous of his tenacity. She couldn’t find it in herself to fault him when Makimura would run to his side instead when she needed help, after all she was the one who wasn’t there when she was needed the most.

As it was, the three of them spent the majority of their time together; running through the green fields that were overgrown with colorful flowers, playing pretend and make-believe, and of course _track._

Track was the passion that was shared between the three of them and their common ground. It had all started with Makimura, when she had decided to sign up when the team opened recruitment when they in the third grade. Akira of course followed her when she decided to sign up, as he always did. She remembers how the two of them looked at her expectantly as Makimura had handed her the pen.

“Come on, it’ll be more fun with the three of us,” Makimura had promised, Miki had felt like she couldn’t say no to that smile so she had signed up as well.

She most definitely didn’t regret it either, because she soon climbed the ranks of the track team and became the fastest runner on the team. The feeling of her sneakers padding against the even pavement, the wind blowing her hair and whistling in her ears, the sweat on her brow and her pounding heart – track made her feel free, it made her feel _alive._ Her popularity continued to grow, coach always singing his praises about her, and she had Makimura by her side.

Her favorite part about track wasn’t only the element of freedom and popularity that accompanied it, but running with Makimura by her side. Akira passing the baton to Makimura who passed it on to her, the anchor, eyes full of trust and faith that she’ll finish the race and bring them victory. She reveled in the shower of compliments and flattery that people would send her way, but louder than anyone else – was Makimura cheering her on constantly.

“Miko, you’re awesome! So fast, I don’t think I’ll ever catch up to you,” Makimura would say, smile ever-present as she would hand her a bottle of water and a towel at the end of a relay. Miki would blush and puff her chest proudly; somehow her talent at track made her feel like she was somehow catching up to Makimura and Akira. All her wins, trophies, and interviews gave her confidence; made her feel like she was strong, that she could be someone that Makimura could finally depend on and a shoulder to lean on when she needed it.

While she had been unable to protect Makimura previously, she could use track to empower her, so that she could take care of her in the future. That’s all she wanted, really.

 

**February, 2016**

Miko didn’t know when she stopped being Miki and became Miko. She also didn’t know when Makimura became Miki. It was all quite confusing.

What had started as a term for endearment had transformed into what felt like a slur in her direction. Her passion and love, track, had started to feel like a source of torment and misery. The best thing in her life – Makimura, no she went mainly by Miki now – only exacerbated her insecurities and made her feel small in comparison to her. It was like she was a small star standing next to the sun, her presence completely blinded by the brightness that exuded from Miki like the star she was.

How had it started? That was a question that Miko would often find herself pondering over as she watered the flowers beneath her apartment, a hobby she found herself picking up when she started lacking in track.

Well obviously it had all started with track. Miko used to be the fastest one in the team, when they were young and naïve. Then puberty kicked in and the natural selection began. Miko grew taller, her breasts filling in and her red hair had grown so long and she was forced to put it in a ponytail so it wouldn’t obstruct her vision. She had also put on some weight in places that she was finding extreme difficulty in losing, no matter how many consecutive diets she had went on and no matter how much she ran every day to and from school outside of track.

On the other hand, puberty only seemed to serve Miki in the best of ways. Her body was toned in a way that hers wasn’t despite spending the same number of years on the track field, her stomach flat and her breasts the perfect size for an athlete. Miko never saw them bounce around like hers did when she ran. In fact, she was a vision of beauty when she ran in her opinion. The way her beautiful and long legs would extend and contract as she ran, how she would hardly pant or sweat no matter how strenuous their training was, her hair cut short that would blow behind her like a halo from the force of the wind and gleam under the sunlight. Most notably, how her eyes would shine brighter as she ran and her smile seemed to mimic the sun itself. Miko envied her beauty and radiance, but she was more so in awe by her.

Sometimes her heart would skip a beat or two when she would watch Miki in all her radiance on the track field, or even when they were alone together or with Akira and she would laugh at something she said.

Miki had always been confident, but when she had started to outrun Miko, all the people that used to swarm around Miko – redirected all their attention on Miki instead. Nobody approached Miko anymore to praise her track skills or to ask her for tips or praise her hair; they would instead say those same exact things to Miki who seemed to take it all in stride. She would smile at all of them and answer everyone with a patience and kindness that most people didn’t have and everyone loved her. Miko didn’t blame them in the slightest, she just wished they hadn’t left her behind in the dust.

The days of calling her a witch was long gone apparently, people even going as far as to saying Miki’s best feature was her exotic eyes.

Miko never found the courage to approach Miki when she was surrounded by that swarm of people, somehow the idea seeming humiliating. So she would just walk away, run home, practice harder and water her flowers and try to forget.

Eventually, slowly and gradually, during rallies and matches – people started to pick up on how Miki would call her Miko and started to do so too. Miko had felt uncomfortable and disgruntled at this, who were they to call her Miko? Only Miki was allowed to call her so. However, she hated causing conflict, so she just swallowed down her discontent and continued to run as the other girls started cheering for her chanting ‘ _Miko’_ instead of her true name; Miki.

What had started with track had then began to escalate throughout the whole school. Everyone was calling her Miko and she still couldn’t find the nerve to correct them, and as more and more people started to call her as such she found it even harder to voice anything against it.

Perhaps that’s also when the resentment had started as well.

Miko was angry at herself for her meekness, her inability to speak up and voice her feelings as strongly as Miki – or even crybaby Akira – could, why couldn’t she just talk normally? Why wasn’t she as fast at track as Miki even though she put in several more hours of practice in than Miki did? Why did people only associate with her just to ask her about Miki, as if she wasn’t a person herself that was worth knowing too? Why did her heart pound the way it did around Miki when she was a girl too?

Why? Why? Why? So many questions and Miko was frustrated, and she felt that her main outlet was kind and patient Miki. Throwing the blame on Miki for picking out that stupid nickname when they were kids and abandoning her – even though she really didn’t – was easier than self-reflecting and coming to a realization that she didn’t want to make.

Miko was already walking home when she heard Miki call out to her; she was in a self-depreciating mood and didn’t feel like she could handle the intensity of Miki and her positivity at that moment of time, she wondered if it would be too rude if she pretended she hadn’t heard her and continued walking. However, it was Miki and despite all the negativity that Miko had been feeling directed her way; she was still as weak as ever to her beautiful smile as she was when they were kids.

Miki runs a bit to catch up to her, and smiles gratefully for waiting for her, “Miko! I’ve missed you so much, you always disappear right after practice,” she pouts petulantly.

Miko flinches a bit, both at the nickname that she abhorred and for Miki calling her out so directly, “Oh, I’ve been busy lately. Sorry about that.”

Miki shakes her head, humming, “I don’t mind, I’ve just missed you is all.”

Miko wonders if Miki is aware of the effect her words have on her, her face coloring as she tugs self-consciously at the end of her ponytail. She wishes she had put her hair down after practice so she could hide behind the curtain of her hair.

Miko coughs pointedly, “I’ve missed you too, Miki. Why aren’t you with Akira?” she asks, it’s odd that Akira isn’t around because they usually walk home together, perks of living in the same house. Miko bristles slightly at that.

“I told him to go on ahead without me, because I wanted to catch up with you. I already spend more than enough time with him anyway,” she says, rolling her eyes fondly.

Miko feels her heart skip a beat at the notion of Miki skipping time with her beloved Akira to be with her.

“Thank you,” she whispers, which Miki quickly waves off.

They walk aimlessly with no real direction in silence for a few moments more, it’s not necessarily an awkward silence but it isn’t a comfortable one either. Usually they would have an infinite amount of things to talk about between the two of them, effortlessly jumping from one topic to another, but now it’s like they both have nothing to say. Miko wonders if that is her fault, for always being so insecure and building the chasm between them herself.

Unsurprisingly, Miki is the one to break the silence first, “So – what have you been busy with? Or who?” she asks, nudging her playfully.

Miko laughs uncomfortably, there’s no one in her life obviously, except Miki who seems to be the main fixture of her thoughts, but she assumes that’s not what Miki had meant. “Haha. You know there’s no one like that in my life.”

Except you, but that doesn’t count.

“Just making sure,” Miki says in a singsong voice, “You’ve become so pretty lately Miko, I wouldn’t be surprised if boys were breaking down your door. Besides, look at these big guns,” she teases as she steps behind her and grabs her – rather large if she may say so herself – chest in her small hands and squeezes.

Miko squeaks as she blushes fiercely at her words and what Miki is doing, nobody had ever touched her chest in such a manner before, except well her obviously. “Miki! Stop it!” she admonishes, if she continues she might actually die.

Miki doesn’t stop though, and instead is emboldened by her flustered response and proceeds to grope her chest, feeling the whole breast with her small hands. “Wow, Miko, you’re so big I can’t even hold it with my whole hand,” she whispers, voice breathy next to her ear as she squeezes again to prove a point. Miko feels her nipples hardening, and she starts panicking and hopes that Miki doesn’t notice.

Miko squirms, “That’s just because your hands are so small,” she whispers, blushing to her roots and sweating for some reason; her heart was going to beat out of her chest. She doesn’t know why they’re both whispering, when they’re in a deserted street, no one else there except the two of them and the sun rapidly setting. It was going to be dark soon, Miko absently noted.

“Or maybe, it’s because you’re so _big,”_  Miki mutters next to her ear, “You should be proud of it, you know, I wish I was as big as you,” she says, and suddenly Miki twists a nipple between her fingers through the cloth of her shirt and her sport bra. Miko moans despite herself.

There’s a crash in the distance, a trash can that fell over maybe, but it’s enough to break the haze that had descended upon her. She has to be the voice of reason.

“Miki, stop – we’re in public,” she whines. Miki pinches her stiff nipple one last time, and then whispers hotly against her ear, “Would it have been okay, if we weren’t in public?”

With that, Miki lets go of her and Miko automatically misses the sensation of the body heat that had been embracing her, of Miki embracing her.

As if a switch had been switched off inside her, Miki had returned to her normal bright persona, humming again. They hardly speak as they walk home, Miko still not recovering from what had just passed between the two of them. It was the most intimate she had ever been with Miki – or with anyone else for that matter. Miko envied her ability to revert back to normal while she was still so visibly affected.

Once they reach her home, Miko belatedly realizes that her house is located in the complete opposite direction of Miki and Akira’s house. Had Miki walked her home despite knowing this?

“Miki! Your house is in the opposite direction! Why did you walk me home?” she asks, feeling guilty. With the way she had been behaving lately, she didn’t deserve Miki doing something like that for her.

With an airy laugh, she replies, “I told you that I had missed you, so I wanted to spend some time with you. I don’t mind walking a bit more.”

Miko blushes once more, apparently that’s all she can do around Miki, just blush and act stupid. She mumbles a thank you under her breath.

Miki is waving goodbye, when she takes note of the flowers that Miko had been tending to. It’s like her eyes grow in size in excitement and the force of her grin is so strong, Miko feels blinded.

“These are so beautiful! Are you the one who takes care of them?” Miki asks her, excitement palpable in her voice as she kneels down to look at them more closely.

Miko stutters, “H-how did you know?”

Miki laughs as she studies the flowers fondly, “Of course, silly. You’ve always loved flowers since we were little. Who else would take such care of flowers other than you?”

She can’t help but feel slightly taken aback at Miki noticing something like that; especially since it wasn’t really something she had talked about much, unlike track which they could have raved about for hours together.

“Can you tell me what types of flowers they are?” Miki asks, looking up at her from her crouched position. Miko nods, and crouches down next to her.

She points at the white flowers first, “Those are daisies obviously, and they just look like such a pure flower. I’m sure it has some sort of meaning but I haven’t gotten around to looking them up yet,” then she points to the purple flowers, “These are called Hardy Geraniums or some people call them, Cranesbill. Purple is such a pretty color, but it doesn’t look good on me because of my red hair so I just enjoy them on the flowers,” they both laugh at that.

Miki is the one who points at the vibrant blue flowers, “What about those? You didn’t talk about those.”

Miko sighs, and says quietly, “Those are actually my favorite. They’re called Forget-Me-Nots, I heard about them in a song and I really – liked their name I guess. I decided I wanted to grow them in my garden.”

Miki hums thoughtfully, “I think they’re my favorite too. Do you know what the meaning is?”

She does in fact know, but she feels like saying so might expose too much, but at the same time she doesn’t like lying to Miki. “They symbolize – true love and memories.”

“Hm, do you mind if I pluck a flower?” she asks, to which Miko nods in approval. Usually, she would be totally against it, because it was needlessly killing the flowers she put time and effort into growing and tending to them, but this was Miki and she was a special exception.

Miki carefully plucks one small flower, and takes it in her delicate hands. She sniffs it and she pouts, whining that they were scentless.

Laughing, Miko clarifies, “Well that’s because Forget-Me-Nots are scentless by day. They emit a pleasant smell at night though, I rarely get to smell them though, because well – they’re outside.”

Smiling, Miki suddenly closes the distance between them, and regards her carefully, “You’re so cute, Miko,” she whispers.

Miko feels the electric mood from earlier returning with a vengeance and wonders what’s happening. Was Miki going to kiss her? Should she close her eyes? What does she do in a situation like this? Miki is getting closer, she’s touching her hair, so Miko closes her eyes tightly and waits.

And then nothing happened.

“See? You look so pretty now, Miko. And the blue really complements your red hair,” Miki grins, hands on her hips as she regards her work.

What?

“Oh, I bet you can’t see it. Here,” Miki takes out her phone and turns on the selfie camera, “Pretty, right? Plus you get to smell it at night now.”

Miko looks at herself in the camera and sees the Forget-Me-Not that Miki had just plucked was now nestled behind her ear and standing out vibrantly against her red hair indeed. Tentatively, she smiles, feeling like she does indeed look pretty like Miki had said.

Miki snaps a picture, and grins triumphantly at Miko’s look of surprise. “Now I have a visual copy. I’m going to upload this to Instagram,” she states happily, tapping some buttons as she adds some filters and a caption.

Miko feels like she wouldn’t be surprised if her heart beat out of her chest at that very moment.

“Thank you, Miki. I had a great time with you today,” Miko says, voice shaky because she’s choked up with so many emotions.

Miki shakes her head again, like the angel she is, “I had an amazing time too, Miko. You’re my best friend,” she says and then gives her a hug; they’re still crouched down next to the flowerbeds. Miko hopes that Miki doesn’t notice her heart beating out of control, because that would be hard to explain. Miki then looks up at the sky and sees how the sky was steadily turning darker, sun completely set, and gets up quickly, “I wish I could have stayed longer, but I have to go. See you tomorrow!” she bids her farewell, and runs off gracefully in a way that only track star, Makimura Miki could pull off.

Miko whispers her goodbye to the wind.

Miko hates Miki, but at the same time Miko was so irrevocably in love with her.

 

**January, 2018**

Miko and Miki were no longer best friends.

Their friendship had slowly yet surely dwindled into little more than acquaintanceship after that night by the flowerbeds. That night when Miko had finally admitted to herself that what she had felt towards Miki expanded beyond simple friendship. That same night that Miko had touched herself for the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last time, the pleasant aroma of the Forget-Me-Nots permeating through the room, thinking of another girl, her best friend.

The amount of shame and disgust that she had felt afterwards almost made her suffocate, and she had felt like the scent of the Forget-Me-Not was only exacerbating that emotion. She lit it on fire, the smell of smoke in the room finally giving her some peace of mind.

When she had seen Miki the following day at school, Miki had lifted her hand to wave at her, Miko avoided eye contact and walked away briskly. Avoiding her at track wasn’t all too difficult either, the swarm of people surrounding Miki at all times made for an easy escape.

What had fueled her to do so was the guilt she would have felt when she looked into her electric blue eyes and remembered how she had objectified her so, it probably would have killed her. She could imagine herself breaking out into tears, falling to her knees, begging for her forgiveness that the kind hearted Miki would have so readily given her.

Maybe she wouldn’t have done so though; perhaps Miki would think she was so abhorrent for doing such a heinous act, her eyes going cold as she called her disgusting and screaming that Miko had violated her and her trust.

Eventually, avoiding her had become something of a second nature and Miki had gotten the point after a few blocked attempts to approach her, and had stopped trying as well.

Miko remembers how hard she had cried one night, when all the phone calls from Miki had ceased completely, no longer attempting to get into contact or ask to walk her home. She didn’t call her pretty anymore and it was almost as if they had both retreated back to kindergarten when Miki treated her like everyone else; with a wave and a polite smile. The only thing that was still the same was how Miki still called her ‘Miko’ along with the rest of the student body. She didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

She had cried because there was no one to blame, but herself for being such a jealous and abhorrent human being.

Watching from the sidelines, Miko had only grown more bitter as time had passed.

She had watched as Miki and Akira grew more and more close, him being that knight in shining armor for her that Miko would never be. The jealousy and inadequacy tearing her apart.

She had watched as boys would line up, begging her to go out with them, to which Miki would gracefully wave them off like the star she was. Those boys wouldn’t even be bitter, they would just lament over the idea of going out with a girl as perfect as Miki was. Miko couldn’t help but agree with them, deep down.

She had watched as Miki continued to break records in track, and Miko would always remain as her number two. Only asked to interviews so they could ask her what being Miki’s friend was like. Miko assumed those interviewers wouldn’t appreciate it much, if Miko had said that she had no idea. After all she hadn’t been Miki’s friend in quite a long time.

Miko had been left alone to allow all her jealousy and bitterness fester within her; every time she would hear the name ‘Miko’ she’d only feel all those negative emotions all the more intensely.

Despite all the hatred she felt towards Miki, she still – despite her best efforts to deny it – loved her with all her heart.

She knew that she was no Akira, especially after his transformation, but she had still tried to protect Miki when she could. When that lecherous photographer had leached himself onto Miki, calling her all the time, and trying to get her to do sketchy photo shoots; Miko had intervened.

She had known that she couldn’t do much on her lonesome; she couldn’t threaten him because she didn’t have the guts to do so, didn’t have the money to bribe him to leave her alone, and had no one she could tell as her grandmother was too old to have any type of authority that could help.

So she did the only thing she could have done in her meek position; she offered herself up instead. The results had been catastrophic and maybe it was her fault for being naïve, but had been relieved later on when she had noticed that that lecherous photographer had stopped coming to their school and apparently dropped all contact with Miki after that.

She had cried that night, blood on her hands, feeling as if she had lost something extremely precious. Relief was what she had felt though more strongly, because somehow she had been able to protect Miki by taking her position. As horrible and disgusting as it had all felt, she would have preferred that something like that happened to her and not Miki. She was an angel who only deserved the best in life, and Miko had wanted to protect that.

For better or worse she was a demon now.

Flashbacks of the night she had transformed haunted her day and night. The Sabbath. The drugs and alcohol. It was their first time at such a place and it turned into something worse than even her worst nightmares could fabricate. Blood everywhere, screams, people scrambling for the doors that didn’t seem to open as beasts tore them down one by one and ate them like a yummy snack. She remembers how she had been paralyzed by fear, couldn’t move, couldn’t scream for help, couldn’t run for help. She had just helplessly watched people get brutally murdered before her eyes.

Mayuta had tried to protect her, taking note of how out of her mind with fear she was. He stood in front of her with a broken champagne glass – as if that flimsy thing would have been enough to ward off any of the terrifying monsters around them. Perhaps if she were paying any attention, she would have noticed how he too was trembling with fear, his hands shaking around the broken glass and his legs that could barely keep him up. The only thing that had him standing still instead of passing out, or using the glass on himself to end it all painlessly was his will to try to protect Miko at any costs.

When the spider monster had pinpointed them as two easy targets, it closed the distance rapidly and loomed over them. Mayuta had barely had any time to even lift the glass before the spider tore him down with its massive claws as it cackled gleefully; his hand torn neatly from his arm and the useless glass was gone. There was no time to scream before the spider had stabbed him in his diaphragm with one of its many legs. Miko could only watch in horror as the blood exploded out of his diaphragm and his hand like a fountain, his legs finally giving in as he fell to the ground.

The monster removed its leg from his punctured torso, satisfied the job was done allowing his still warm body to fall backwards as he slumped against her legs – Miko failing to catch his body as it fell as she was still paralyzed with shock. He seemed to be looking up at her from his slumped position, spitting blood from his mouth as he tried to speak. When he realized that he couldn’t, he mouthed an _‘I’m sorry,’_ and his body appeared to give up on him as his head tilted to the side. Miko despaired over the fact that his eyes had been hidden by those hideous sunglasses.

The spider snapped it’s pincers at her menacingly, as if trying to remind her that it was in fact still there and that it was her turn next to get minced to pieces.

It was at this moment that Miko had something of an epiphany, seconds away from death.

She had realized that her life had been such a waste, she had always been meek – never been able to speak her mind. She had always spent her life shrouded in insecurities and jealousy, and never got the opportunity to prove herself. Most importantly, she had loved Miki and had never told her, was never really there for her when she needed her the most.

Was this really how it was all going to end? Dying in a nameless club like poor Mayuta, without anyone knowing who she really was – Miki and not Miko – dying with no purpose to her pathetic life.

As the monster was just a hair breadth away, Miko screamed and screamed. She screamed so loud she wouldn’t have been surprised if all the glasses on the walls had shattered.

She didn’t want to die. Not yet. There was still so much left to do.

She had blacked out after that.

When she had awoken, she found herself on the floor of the bloody Sabbath, next to Mayuta’s corpse which had gone cold. There was blood everywhere, body parts and ruptured organs scattered everywhere – but no monsters in sight. It had seemed as if she was the only one who had survived that horrific night.

Miko looked at Mayuta’s corpse and before she could help herself, she felt tears well up in her eyes and then she was crying hysterically. She had finally met someone with such a kind heart who understood her, but he had died trying to protect her. He had deserved to be alive more than she did.

Miko doesn’t know how she had done it, but she picked up Mayuta’s body with little to no effort that surprised her, and carried him to her home making sure to keep to deserted alleyways so no one would see her. She didn’t know why she had done that; she could have simply left the body. However, the idea of leaving him behind in such a place with the remains of other corpses around – she felt like that would be the biggest disgrace to his memory.

She had laid him down in an empty room on the futon and regarded his desecrated body – huge hole in his body where the spider had pierced him, the blood had clotted overnight so he wasn’t bleeding anymore and the blood on his chin had long since dried. Leaning downwards, she carefully took off his tacky sunglasses and for the first time she saw what Mayuta had looked like without the sunglasses. She fought back the tears that began to well in her eyes once more when she regarded the look of pure and utter terror that was in his brown eyes as he died. Slowly, she slid his eyes shut and muttered a quick prayer under her breath.

Miko had practically run out of that room after that and locked the door, unable to face what used to be Mayuta once more.

Miko had skipped the following couple days of school, grieving over Mayuta and figuring out how her new body worked – and well coming to terms that she was now a monster or a demon of some sort, although she still felt partially human.

Miko was in no way like those things that had turned that night at the Sabbath into a blood bath. She would never be like them.

She couldn’t help but hate that she had transformed into the monster that had murdered Mayuta though. It could be added to the list of things she hated about herself.

During those days off, Miko wondered a lot. She wondered why out of all people she was the one who was given a second chance, she wasn’t killed and instead she was turned into a half demon thing with super speed and strength. Why her? Perhaps the universe had sensed how strongly she had wanted to live, and had decided she was worthy of a second chance?

She doubted that was the case however, because surely Mayuta and all those other people that were massacred at the Sabbath also had a strong will to live as well. Nobody had wanted to die in that way that night.

Then she was reminded of how strong her emotions had felt, about wanting to prove herself and her feelings about _Miki._

Maybe that was her second chance? Her calling was to finally admit her feelings to Miki and to be her protector.

She could protect Miki by better means now that didn’t involve self-sacrifice. Miki wouldn’t have to depend solely on Akira now for protection either, no matter how strong he was now, Miko absently notes that he too was probably a half demon as his transformation felt similar to hers. Akira didn’t matter though.

She was _finally_ strong now.

She had to win Miki back.

Miko had lost their friendship because she was crippled by fear of her reaction, but she’s different now. First she had to make things right. To do so, she would win her name back by beating her in track for once and for all. Maybe then, once all the jealousy had gone and evaporated; she could be someone worthy of standing by her side.

 

Despite the transformation she had undergone, Miko still found that she hadn’t changed all that much. When they were in the department store and Miki had bravely yet foolishly stood in front of a gun to protect a bunch of punks she didn’t know. Miko hadn’t even known she was in the store and had barely any time to even analyze the situation before Miki had already deescalated the situation and turned the tides in her favor. Everyone loved a hero after all. Miko had bristled.

 

Then during the championship turned shit show that had been filmed on national television, when crybaby Koda had went on a rampage and killed everyone – Miko had never thought she would meet a crybaby bigger than Akira but she had been proved incorrect. She had been unable to finally beat Miki and set the score right, take back her name and dispose of the dreadful one that even she had begun to identify herself with.

Everyone had been getting killed and suddenly she didn’t care all that much about track and she just wanted to make sure that Miki was safe. Ostensibly, she wasn’t the only one who had such a thought, because the angelic and delicate Miki was the one to find her instead and had helped her to get to safety even though such a thing was unnecessary.

Miko had felt an undeniable sense of shame when Miki had taken her hand, telling her to come with her, feeling how frail and delicate her hand was, shaking with fear in hers. How tiny and petite Miki now was compared to her yet Miki was the one who tried to protect her instead of the other way around. The way it should have been. Miko was supposed to be the one saving her from the scary monsters not vice versa. She thinks of Mayuta, a corpse rotting in her spare room because he had tried to protect her. How long was she going to be the one who was protected?

With the flick of her wrist, she loosened Miki’s grasp on her and escaped, ignoring Miki’s desperate calls not to leave. She could handle herself just fine against that crybaby – but she couldn’t handle being around Miki and the shame that had followed.

 

At the current moment in time, Miko felt as if she was witnessing what could be none other than the end of the world. She had always thought when she was younger that she wouldn’t witness the Apocalypse, and if she did it would be like in the movies – natural disasters and the earth kind of collapsing on itself and humans binding together to fight for survival in the face of terror.

That couldn’t have been more untrue. Instead of binding together, humans were killing humans, persecuting the innocent – the phrase innocent until proven guilty spat on multiple times. Everywhere she would go she would see humans driven mad with paranoia and fear or ones that have fallen so deep into depravity, they were just taking advantage of all the chaos to cause more chaos. There were fires, blood, dead bodies of women and children strewn about.

Miko thought about the old Greek myth, Pandora’s Box, the one where she opened the box and all these horrible things came out but in exchange they got Hope as well. She felt like the current situation was kind of like that except there was no Hope.

There she stood in Miki’s house with a bunch of people she didn’t know, listening as her heart slowly broke at the sound of Miki’s tears reverberating throughout the house, complementing the wails of pain and sorrow that were coming from Akira next to her. Miko had been too late then, couldn’t save the thing that was most dear to Miki, and was powerless now – too estranged to offer any real comfort.

Perfect, beautiful Miki didn’t deserve this pain. She had only deserved the best in life, but somehow she had ended up with only the worst.

Then as if things couldn’t possibly get any worse than they already were, the crazy loon on the TV with the bowl cut exposed Akira as a demon, declared that any human that seemed to be struggling with problems or depressed was a demon as well. Miko didn’t know how anyone could have looked at that guy and believed that he was a credible source of information when he was so obviously one of those humans that reveled in creating more chaos.

When she had gotten a ping on her phone as they waited to leave, to escort Miki to safety as they had promised, she read it. This was their Hope that had left Pandora’s Box. Miki was their Hope. She had embraced the Devilmen like her and was trying to create a semblance of peace and unity in a time where there seemed to be none. She wasn’t trying to reach out to the humans, but to people like her. Miko didn’t know how someone could still be so perfect in the face of so much tragedy, but she decided it didn’t matter. She never got to beat her in track but she still had to tell her the truth.

If any of them died, she needed to let Miki know first. At least then, she would have carried out one of her resolutions.

She hovered over Miki as she had slowly packed her bag, it seemed as if she had opted not to take any of her own personal items and was taking toys of her little brother. It seemed even if the smile was still ever-present on Miki’s face she was still grieving in her own way.

It was either now or never. Miko chose now.

“You know, I always hated you.”

That’s not what she had wanted to say.

“I know,” Miki nods, smile still present like always.

“You called me Miko, I always hated that name. I wanted to beat you at track.”

Why was she talking about this? Why was she talking about track? She didn’t know, but she just felt the words pour out of her chest as she watched Miki continue to pack her brother’s toys.

“I know.”

“I love you. I always have.”

That was what Miko had been trying to say, she feels tears welling up in her eyes.

Miki finally disregards her bag to look at her, “I know.”

Miko can’t help the tears that fall down her cheeks, and covers her mouth with her hand so she can prevent the sobs from coming out in earnest. Telling her had felt so cathartic, the tears just flooding out with no intention to stop. She feels arms wrap around her, Miki is hugging her and she hides her face in the crook of her shoulder. There is tears and snot getting onto Miki’s shoulder but she doesn’t seem to mind as she pats her back soothingly.

Then a kiss against her hair and a whispered, _‘I love you too.’_

Miko wondered if that had just been her wishful imagination making her hear things, or if Miki really did love her too. Regardless of what it had been, it didn’t matter because it was the end of the world and it had come to their doorstep.

With her heightened hearing that came from being a Devilman; she heard the screams and the blunt clash of sharp objects against one another. The humans were here and they were here for Miki.

Perhaps she would get to finally protect Miki now, finally get to prove how much she loves her.

They’re on the roof and the humans are climbing up to the top with knives and weapons, swarming in on them like ants to a source of food. People were back to calling Miki a witch apparently, Miko notices absently that she hadn’t heard that term in a long time. They needed to escape.

Miko starts to feel self-conscious. She’d have to turn into her dreadful spider form in front of Miki, it wasn’t graceful like Akira’s was, and she didn’t want Miki to see her that way. There was no other way for them to get out of this alive, or for Miki to get out of this alive though. When some asshole approached Miki with a knife; prompting Miko to decide there was no time for being self-conscious and transformed, effectively removing the majority of the people who had made it to the rooftop.

“Sorry, can you get on – “and Miki was already climbing on to her body, no sign of discomfort as they tried to flee the angry mob.

 

The mob was getting closer and they were shooting at them, and Miko knew that her time was running out. She had already confessed, but she didn’t seem the harm in doing so again.

“I love you!”

Miki laughs at her proclamation, perhaps the timing was inappropriate but she mimics it back, “I love you too!”

She gets shot. Pain. She’s bleeding.

She still has to protect Miki. Was this how Mayuta had felt when he had died trying to protect her? She was scared, she didn’t want to die, but somehow that seemed okay if that meant Miki was going to get away. She just had to get her to the getaway car. That’s all that mattered.

Another gunshot wound. It’s at her leg this time, she tries to keep on going, but she’s wobbly.

Miki is frantically asking if she’s okay. No, she isn’t, but she doesn’t need to know that. At this rate she won’t be able to get Miki to the getaway car. The mob would catch up to them first.

“Miki, get off. You need to make it,” Miko urges her. Perhaps the only way she could ever help Miki was through self-sacrifice. When it was for her though, she didn’t feel like it was that much of a sacrifice.

“But-“

“Go, Miki. You can still make it, don’t worry about me,” she says, she has to be strong. She gets shot again. There’s so much pain, but she’s not paying attention to it.

Miki gets off; she takes a few steps and stops. She’s not smiling now. She can’t stop staring at Miko who’s bleeding out – she knows that Miki wants to save her but it’s a lost cause at this point.

“Miki, go! Run!” she cries out, the mob is going to get her at this rate. Miki can’t die.

Miko takes a few more steps, but not more than that. She doesn’t want to leave her, Miko thinks that Miki is trying to throw her life away for her but Miko won’t have that.

“Go,” she feels her eyes stinging, she makes her hand in the shape of a baton, hoping that would be enough to prompt Miki into running. It would be their last run together she notices belatedly.

The mob is so close. She’s going to die now.

Miki finally runs and Miko takes a breath of relief, but its short lived because the mob is here. They would kill her and get to Miki within seconds. Miki was fast but she couldn’t outrun such huge numbers, they had guns and knives too.

She had to distract them; this would be her final act.

The mob surrounds her with weapons and guns and blunt weapons like pipes to beat her with. This wouldn’t be a graceful death, she realizes. She snatches a gun, and puts it to her temple, once she’s sure Miki has gotten away she’ll blow her brains out so they don’t torture her to death.

They call her disgusting, a devil.

She tries to reason with them, asks them not to do this. Essentially they are humans; perhaps they will feel something, not go after Miki.

They don’t listen and proceed to stabbing her and shooting at her. She notices how they avoid potentially vital organs. This wasn’t a persecution; they would drag this out as long as possible. They found pleasure in torturing a monster like her. Miko felt like even though they all had human skin and features that they were the true monsters between the two of them. There would be no use trying to appeal to their humanity because there was none left.

She then tries begging. Begging them and pleading them to leave Miki alone. They don’t listen, they proceed to stab her in the face and mock her pleading.

She can’t give up yet. Distract them enough until Miki gets away.

She doesn’t get the chance to, because someone – one of those boys that were in the house with them, the one who had shot her – takes another gun. He shoots her; somehow the sound of that gunshot had seemed so much louder than all the others had been; maybe it was because it was the delivering blow. He had shot her in the chest, right where her human heart resided.

With that gunshot it was like everything around her had begun to fade. All the sounds and yelling becoming background noise, she feels like she hears the people yelling at the boy for killing her too soon – he should have let her suffer a bit more they argued. The voices sound so far away though. The flames coming from the house no longer seem as bright, she blinks several times, but they still seem faded and dull. The gun that she had to her temple drops to the ground uselessly from her limp hand, she never got to use it in the end.

She’s dying.

It all feels surreal somehow; she wonders not for the first time but definitely for the last if this was how Mayuta had felt when he had died. He had seemed as if he were in pain when he died, fear etched into his eyes, regretful that he had been unable to protect her in his last moments.

Miko realizes that she feels differently. She had gotten to tell Miki that she loved her and was able to distract the mob for a few moments. She hopes desperately she had succeeded in protecting Miki. Surely she had gotten away, the getaway car picking her up and taking her to a safe location. Miki would live her life; perhaps get married to Akira or the boy with the hat and think of her from time to time. That was the sacrifice that Miko had happily made and would make again.

The excruciating pain starts to fade and Miko smiles. It hadn’t been the best life but she feels she made up for it a bit in the end.

Goodbye, Miki. I love you.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed that, please do leave a kudos or a comment - I love that stuff!  
> Also hit me up on tumblr if you'd like @always-somewhere


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